


simple little christmas

by ohallows (dean_n_pie)



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, late christmas fic, literally just happiness and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:17:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_n_pie/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Tim and Kon need to figure out how they're going to split their time between the Kents and the Waynes on Christmas Day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's okay to post a late xmas fic as long as it's still december right 
> 
> kudos and concrit, as always, is appreciated!
> 
> (unbetaed, also written on my phone)

"I'm not saying Ma will kill us if we don't show for Christmas, but Ma will definitely kill us if we don't show up for Christmas," Conner says, casting a despairing glance over at Tim.

"And Bruce will kill us if we're not there to light the menorah and be there for the annual Wayne Holiday Party, Conner. Would you rather have Martha Kent on your back, or Batman?"

Conner's silent for a moment, so Tim glances over. He looks deep in thought.

"Seriously?" Tim says, rolling his eyes.

"You've never seen Ma angry, Tim," Conner counters. "What if she doesn't give us pies for a week?"

"Oh, the horror," Tim says, deadpan.

He's just able to catch the movement of something large and white flying at him before it connects, and he has a moment to wonder why on Earth this is his life before the pillow that Conner chucked at him beans the side of his head. It doesn't hurt, considering it's a pillow, so when Tim turns around to glare at Conner he's not surprised to see him looking not the least bit sorry.

"Pies are very serious, Tim," Conner says, seriously. Tim nods back, just as seriously, before having to turn away before he bursts out laughing.

He feels Conner come up behind him before he hears him - so, TTK - and doesn't flinch when Conner's arms wrap around him.

"This happens every year. Why does this happen every year?" Conner groans, resting his chin on top of Tim's head. "Why don't we plan?"

Tim would shake his head, but it's rather firmly being pinned in position by Conner's arm and chin, so instead he shrugs. "We also have this conversation every year," he reminds Conner, laughing slightly. "And nothing changes."

Conner perks up, gently rubbing his chin along Tim's head. "We could try the one-holiday-here, other-holiday-there method again. Didn't that work out?"

"We went to Bruce's for Thanksgiving, and then Ma acted a bit chilly toward us for a while, at least until Christmas, which we spent at hers, until Dick and Jason faked that Damian was sick and delirious and asking for me, so we rushed over there only to see his smug face grinning at us from behind a ham." Tim is still furious that he actually fell for that one. It was suspicious the second Dick said that Damian was asking for Tim.

Conner sighed heavily. "Oh yeah." They both stand there in silence as Tim soaks up Conner's warmth, closing his eyes in contentment.

"We could - probably - do both," Conner says, letting go of Tim so that he can turn around and see Conner.

"Barring any world-ending crises, sure. If we get to Ma's early, and I convince Bruce to move the festivities to an hour later, we could be good."

Conner shrugs. "You're convincing. You're also his favorite kid."

Tim snorts. "Right. That's Dick's position. I'm maybe third favorite on a good day, unless Cass is in town. Then I'm fourth or lower."

"Oh come on. You're the kid that's most like him, except for maybe Damian. Don't sell yourself short, babe."

Tim shoves Conner off him gently, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I call Ma, you call Bruce?"

"Deal."

"Can we do it tomorrow though?"

Tim laughs.

\--

Tim head is in Conner's lap, reading intently while Conner argues with Ma over the phone. One of his hands absently runs through Tim's hair, and Tim leans into it. The fire is warming up the entire room as they lay there, and the Christmas tree lights are blinking. It's so ridiculously domestic that Tim wouldn't have even dreamed he could have this a couple years earlier. All they need is a dog - and, right on cue (and really, Tim needs to run some tests to see if Krypto really does have a sixth sense) Krypto himself comes bounding in through the dog flap and leaps at Tim's stomach.

Conner moves quickly even while he keeps talking to Ma, plucking Tim up with his TTK and holding him up out of the reach of Krypto as the dog pounces through the air and lands right where Tim's crotch was moments ago. Krypto licks the tips of Tim's feet before he's shoved off the couch by Conner. The TTK fades and Tim falls back to the couch with a small huff, head colliding with Conner's leg. He's pretty sure it hurt him more than he hurt Conner, so he just flicks his ear and resumes reading.

It definitely says something about his life, that these are considered normal occurrences now.

He rubs a hand over Krypto's head, scratching him behind his ears in the way he loves. Krypto is a good dog, really, just. Excitable.

Tim puts the book down when Conner's voice raises slightly, looking less happy by the moment.

"Ma?" Tim whispers, arching an eyebrow. Conner shakes his head, giving Tim a baleful expression.

"Clark," he mouths, rolling his eyes. Tim nods. That... would explain the tone, then.

"Well, sorry," Conner says, letting his head fall to the back of the couch. "This is the only way everyone's happy. We're going to visit Dana for brunch, considering we didn't see her for Thanksgiving and Tim feels bad, then coming to Ma's for a late lunch or early dinner, I'm not picky, before skipping over to the Wayne party. Which Tim can't get out of, by the way."

His face immediately pales and Tim pats his leg, alarmed. "No, no, no," he stammers. "Don't ask him. Don't."

"What?" Tim asks, although he's pretty sure he knows. They've been together for years and Conner is still walking on eggshells around Bruce.

To be completely fair, Bruce wasn't the friendliest to Conner, and only recently stopped referring to him as 'the clone' when him and the rest of the Batfamily were patrolling.

"No, it's fine. Tell Ma I'm sorry, but we need to make anyone happy. And please don't talk to Batma- Bru - just don't talk to him, I'm beggin' you."

Tim laughs softly and Conner hits him on the shoulder. He hangs up the phone and lets out a sigh of relief.

"Permission?" Tim asks, pushing his reading glasses farther up his nose. He doesn't necessarily need them to read, but he'd like his eyesight to be still good when he gets older. Plus, Conner likes them.

"Sort of. Ma's not really happy about it, Pa doesn't care as long as he sees us, and Clark is, as usual, acting like he's disappointed in me."

Tim sits up and leans on Conner, tucking his chin into his shoulder. "Well, I think you did great."

He feels more than hears Conner laugh, chest rumbling under his, and turns his head up to give him a chaste kiss. Conner returns it for a moment before pulling back with a smirk.

"Time for you to call," he crows, handing Tim the phone.

"Bruce isn't going to care," Tim says, "as long as we're there for Christmas Eve and the party."

"Oh, no, you don't have to tell Bruce."

"What?" Tim asks, squinting at Conner.

"Payback. You have to tell Dick you won't be there until later." Conner is outright grinning now, typing the number into the phone even as Tim shakes his head furiously.

"That wasn't the deal!" he hisses, giving the phone a panicked glance. "Wait Conner -"

"Hello?" Tim hears, and grabs the phone.

"Hey, Dick!" he says, flipping Conner off where he's collapsed against the couch in silent laughter. "How are you?"

"Timmy! You never call me now! What's going on, little brother?" Dick says, and Tim just glares at Conner, already planning out his revenge.

"So, about Christmas this year..."

\--

"That was. Exhausting," Conner says, leaning against the door as it pushes closed. "Why did we agree to three different Christmases today. Why."

"Because compromise, Conner," Tim says from his place on the floor, eyes closed. There are bags of presents surrounding him, and he thinks he grabbed Conner's shoe box to use as a pillow instead of the sweater he was wearing.

"Alright, let's go, Boy Wonder," Conner says, and Tim feels two strong arms around his back before he's suddenly vertical again, very much so against his wishes. "You had a lot of champagne at the party."

"Blame Dick, he's the one who made me drink a glass for every hour I missed of Christmas."

"Oh, I'm sure it was very coerced," Conner teases, before sweeping Tim into his arms and heading toward their bedroom. "Like always."

"Hey, he's a convincing dick when he needs to be. And Jason didn't help!" Tim protested. "You're lucky we weren't doing Jaegerbombs."

Conner chuckles. "I'll remember that in the future."

He drops Tim on the bed and Tim bounces slightly before scrambling to get out of his suit. It would be annoying if he had to get it pressed again before the New Year's party.

Conner, the angel (hah!) he is, hangs Tim's suit up the way he likes without needing to be told, and Tim just stares at him.

"I love you, Conner."

"Love you too, Tim," Conner says as he slides the covers over both of them.

Tim blinks before checking the clock real quick. He smiles.

"It's only 11:50 still." He leans forward and presses his lips to Conner's cheek. "Merry Christmas, Conner."

Conner grabs Tim and wraps his arms around him, nuzzling his head into Tim's chest. His lips move along Tim's chest when he mutters a tired, "Merry Christmas, Tim. Sleep now."

Tim strokes his hair and relaxes, falling asleep to the feel of Conner's heart beating against his chest.


End file.
